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MidReal Story
The Anesthesia Mask
Scenario:three little children who is sitting in a reclining dentist chair. She is wearing a black rubber anesthesia mask over her nose and mouth with black rubber corrugated tube connecting to a small compact anesthesia machine with a vaporizer half full of bubbling liquid with the word "ether" on it, mounted above a gas cylinder. connected to a green manual resuscitation bag. She is crying. the first girl Rachael has just had the nurse put the silicone anesthesia mask over her nose as she looks at the other two girls. the second girl Hanna, the nurse placed a black anesthesia mask over her nose and mouth, the nurse turned up her gas to about 50%, Hanna’s eyes are mostly closed head is tilted back. the third girl Jennifer, the nurse placed a pink anesthesia mask secured tightly to her face. The three girls are wearing a brown rubber apron. All three girls are strapped to their chairs. They all face each other in a triangle formation.
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Jennifer
She is a young girl about to undergo a dental procedure. She is scared, tearful, and anxious. She feels trapped and fears the anesthesia might be lethal. She sees her sisters, Rachael and Hanna, also undergoing the same procedure. Jennifer begs for her mom to be present but realizes it's impossible due to her mother's illness. She tries to comfort her sisters as they cry and endure the frightening situation.
Hanna
She is Jennifer's younger sister by about six years. She is tearful, anxious, and impressionable. Hanna is worried about the safety of the anesthesia and fears it might harm her sisters. Like Jennifer, she is scared but tries to remain brave as she faces her fear of the anesthesia mask. Hanna’s presence provides support for Jennifer during their ordeal in the dentist’s office.
Rachael
She is Jennifer's older sister by about six years. She is calm, composed, and brave. Rachael has a broken arm and is also undergoing a dental procedure. She encourages Jennifer and Hanna during their ordeal. Rachael shows concern for Jennifer's safety and explains that the anesthesia is used in hospitals and on animals, assuring Jennifer that it's not lethal. She tries to reassure Jennifer that everything will be all right.
I’m sitting in a reclining dentist chair, my head tilted back.
I have a black rubber anesthesia mask covering my nose and mouth.
The mask is connected by a black corrugated tube to a small compact anesthesia machine.
The machine has a vaporizer half full of bubbling liquid with the word "ether" on it.
Above the vaporizer is a gas cylinder connected to the machine.
From the machine, a green manual resuscitation bag hangs.
I’m crying, not just tearful, but wailing like my heart is breaking.
I’ve got a brown rubber apron around my neck and I’m strapped into the chair so I can’t get up and run.
The nurse put the silicone anesthesia mask over my nose and mouth and now I’m unable to breathe.
I look to my left and see my sister Rachael, six years older than me, sitting in a dentist chair with an anesthesia mask covering her nose and mouth.
She’s not crying like I am, but she does look concerned for me.
She has a broken arm and is also here for a dental procedure.
She looks at me and speaks softly, trying to comfort me as best she can.
"It’s going to be all right," she says.
"I promise."
She then looks to my right and I follow her gaze to see our little sister Hanna, six years younger than me, also in a dentist chair with a black rubber anesthesia mask covering her nose and mouth.
Like me, she’s tearful, but trying to be brave.
I force myself to take slower breaths through the mask, though each inhale brings a sharp chemical smell that makes my stomach turn.
The straps dig into my wrists as I grip the armrests of the chair.
Through tear-blurred vision, I watch Rachael nod encouragingly at me.
Her voice is muffled through the mask, but I catch fragments of her words about staying calm and breathing deeply.
The nurse adjusts something on my machine, making the liquid bubble faster.
My chest tightens with panic, but I keep my eyes locked on Rachael's steady gaze.
I watch the nurse move between our chairs, checking the straps and adjusting each mask.
The ether's sharp smell burns my nose with every breath.
Rachael catches my eye again, nodding slowly despite her own mask.
"Just breathe normally," she says, her voice muffled but steady.
"Like when we practice piano."
I try to match her calm rhythm, counting beats in my head.
The bubbling liquid in the machine beside me rises and falls steadily now.
My chest stops heaving against the rubber apron.
The nurse pats my shoulder and turns a dial, making the vapors flow stronger.
Through my watery eyes, I watch Rachael's head bob up and down in a steady pattern.
The motion reminds me of the metronome at home, tick-tocking during piano practice.
I try to time my breaths with her nods - in when she dips down, out when she rises.
The ether still smells sharp, but following Rachael's rhythm helps me fight the urge to thrash against the straps.
My chest rises and falls more evenly now, though my fingers still grip the armrests tight.
When I manage five steady breaths, Rachael's eyes crinkle above her mask in approval.
"Remember when we played hide and seek in the attic?" she says, her voice barely audible through the mask.
I nod, recalling the dusty beams and the thrill of hiding.
"Think of this as another game," she continues, "just stay hidden in your calm until it's over."
Through my blurry vision, I notice Rachael's hand dangling near the edge of her chair.
The straps holding my wrist feel looser than before, letting me stretch my fingers toward her.
The nurse moves to Hanna's chair, fiddling with the straps on her mask while my sister whimpers.
I slide my hand off the armrest, inch by inch, until my fingertips brush Rachael's gloved palm.
The ether makes my movements sluggish, but I manage to hook two fingers around hers.
Rachael squeezes my fingers gently, her eyes meeting mine with a spark of determination.
"We're stronger together, remember?" she whispers, her voice barely cutting through the haze.
"Once this is over, we'll find a way out," she promises, the conviction in her tone giving me a flicker of hope.
Through the pink rubber mask, I watch Rachael's face grow blurry as the ether makes my head spin.
Her fingers stay locked with mine, anchoring me as the nurse increases the vapor flow on my machine.
The bubbling liquid rises faster now, sending stronger fumes through the corrugated tube.
I try to keep nodding along with Rachael's whispered encouragements, but my head feels too heavy.
The ceiling lights blur into streaks above me.
When the nurse notices our joined hands, she tightens my loose strap, forcing my arm back to the armrest.
Rachael's eyes flash with defiance as she watches the nurse secure my wrist.
"We won't be trapped here forever," she insists, her voice firm despite the mask.
I nod, feeling a surge of resolve as her words echo in my mind, a lifeline in the swirling ether.
As the ether's effects intensify, a wave of despair washes over me.
The straps keep me pinned to the chair, and my vision blurs further.
Through my hazy focus, I see Rachael's eyes locked on mine, her gaze unwavering.
I strain to hear her voice through the heavy mask, my ears ringing from the ether.
"Stay with me," she says, her words muffled but reaching me through the fog.
"We're in this together."
I try to nod, but my head feels too heavy to move.
Rachael repeats her words, her voice steady despite the mask covering her mouth.
"We won't be trapped here forever. We'll find a way out."
I cling to her promise, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the rising panic.
The nurse adjusts the machine again, increasing the bubbling sound that fills my ears.
The vapor flows faster now, making it harder to breathe.
"Rachael, do you really think we can escape?" I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible over the machine's hum.
"Yes," she replies with unwavering certainty, her eyes fierce with determination.
"But we need to stay calm and wait for the right moment," she adds, her grip on my fingers tightening as if to transfer her strength to me.
I stare into her eyes, trying to anchor myself as the ether fogs my mind.
The nurse adjusts the machine again, and the bubbling liquid grows louder.
Rachael's gaze remains steady, her eyes a lifeline in the haze.
I blink slowly, fighting the heaviness of my eyelids.
She nods at me, and I feel a surge of reassurance.
My breathing slows, matching the rhythm of her own.
It's a familiar syncopation from our piano practice sessions together.
Despite the straps digging into my wrists, I feel a glimmer of hope.
"Remember the code we used to tap out during practice?" Rachael murmurs, her eyes flicking to the nurse and back to me.
I nod slightly, recalling the rhythmic patterns we created to communicate silently.
"We'll use it when the time comes," she whispers, her fingers tapping a reassuring beat against my palm.
I struggle to keep my eyes open as the ether fog thickens.
Rachael's fingers continue their gentle rhythm on my palm, and I tap back the code, signaling my understanding.
The nurse, focused on adjusting Hanna's mask, doesn't notice our silent exchange.
Rachael's eyes dart to the door and then back to me, reinforcing our plan.
I take slow, deliberate breaths, matching the steady rhythm of her own breathing.
The straps dig into my wrists, but her determined gaze keeps me grounded.
As the nurse increases the ether concentration, the vapor intensifies through my pink mask.
Rachael's hand squeezes mine tighter, her eyes never leaving mine.
The straps bite into my wrists as I fight to keep my breathing steady, mirroring Rachael's rhythm.
The nurse moves to Hanna, squeezing her rebreather bag firmly, causing Hanna to whimper.
I watch helplessly as Hanna's eyes flutter closed.
Rachael taps our secret code on my palm again, urging me to stay calm and wait for our chance.
As the nurse increases the e##r levels, the gas floods my mask, making it harder to breathe.
Rachael grips my hand tighter, her eyes pleading with me to stay calm.
The nurse moves to Hanna, squeezing her rebreather bag, and I hear Hanna's w###s grow fainter until she falls silent.
My own mask feels heavier, the straps digging into my skin as I struggle to match Rachael's steady breathing.
Despite the rising panic, I focus on Rachael's tapping code on my palm, a reminder of our plan.
As the nurse increases the ether in our masks, I feel the vapor intensify.
Rachael grips my hand tighter, her eyes steady on mine.
The nurse squeezes our rebreather bags, making the liquid bubble more vigorously.
I struggle to breathe, the mask pressing heavily against my face.
Rachael taps our secret code on my palm, urging me to stay calm and wait for our chance.
I try to match her breathing, but the straps dig painfully into my wrists as I fight to keep my eyes open.
Through the fog, I see the nurse move to Hanna, adjusting her mask and squeezing her rebreather bag again.
Hanna's whimpers fade into silence, and I feel a surge of panic.
I feel the nurse increase the ether in our masks, squeezing our rebreather bags.
Rachael's eyes start to flutter closed as she grips my hand tighter.
I struggle to breathe, the mask heavy on my face and the straps digging into my wrists.
Despite the rising fear, I focus on matching Rachael's slowing breaths.
She taps our secret code on my palm weakly, signaling me to stay calm.
As the ether makes everything blur, I watch Rachael's eyelids droop further.
I lean closer to Rachael, whispering, "I won't let go," as our fingers intertwine more tightly.
The nurse, busy with Hanna's mask, doesn't notice our silent communication.
I fight to keep my eyes open, but they grow heavy as the ether takes hold.
Rachael's grip on my hand weakens, and I feel her fingers tap our code one last time before her eyes close completely.
I try not to panic, focusing on the steady rise and fall of her chest even as my own breathing grows erratic.
As the nurse adjusts Hanna's mask, she glances back at us.
Her eyes widen in surprise as she notices our linked hands.
Quickly, she turns up the ether, making the liquid bubble more furiously in our masks.
I feel a surge of panic as the vapor grows thicker, the sharp chemical smell overwhelming me.
Rachael's grip on my hand loosens further, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
I try to tap our code back to her, but my fingers feel numb and unresponsive.
The straps dig deeper into my wrists as I struggle against the rising fog in my mind.
Through the haze, I see the nurse move back to us, adjusting our masks once more.
As the ether fog thickens, I fight to keep my eyes open.
Rachael's hand is limp in mine now, her breathing so shallow I can barely see her chest move.
The nurse checks our masks, increasing the vapor flow again.
I whisper, "Stay with me," hoping Rachael can hear me through the haze.
My own breathing grows shallower, matching hers as I struggle to tap our code on her palm one last time.
But my fingers barely move, and the straps dig deeper into my wrists as I try to fight against the rising fog in my mind.
Through blurred vision, I see Hanna's still form in her chair, the mask covering her face.
The room fades to black as my grip on reality slips away.
As the nurse turns up the ether level in my mask, I feel the vapor thicken, making it harder to breathe.
Rachael's hand is completely limp in mine now, her breathing so shallow I can barely see her chest move.
I try to squeeze her hand, but my fingers barely respond.
The straps dig deeper into my wrists as I struggle weakly against them.
Through my blurry vision, I see the nurse move to Hanna, giving her rebreather bag firm squeezes.
Hanna's chest rises and falls heavily before she goes completely still.
The room fades to black as my grip on reality slips away.
